


if you wonder about me too

by worry



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Childhood Friends, M/M, literally just fluff, minor clary/isabelle, reposting this bc I deleted it for some reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 00:30:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6589420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worry/pseuds/worry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon is in love with him.</p><p> </p><p>He's almost thirteen, he thinks, too young to be in love. He can't be in love. Raphael is one of his best friends, to start with. Also, he's a guy. Also also, Raphael could never like him that way. He knew that he liked Raphael, but...</p><p> </p><p>He's not in love. He's too young for it. He isn't in love with his best friend who is very much a guy and also not interested in him in That Way.</p><p> </p><p>(Or: the one where Simon and Raphael are childhood friends that fall in love slowly.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you wonder about me too

Simon is getting tired of being bullied.

He's crying by the fence, this time. His teacher probably hasn't even noticed his absence, because no one really ever _notices_ him unless he's doing something wrong or bad or annoying. Everything he does, Simon thinks, is wrong. If he knew how to do things right, no one would push him off of the swing-set at recess. If he knew how to do things right, no one would trip him while he's walking to class. If he knew how to do things _right,_ he wouldn't be crying by the fence outside of the cafeteria.

He's nine years old and his front teeth haven't quite grown in all the way yet, and his clothes are still just a little bit too big for him to wear. He's supposed to grow into them, his mother says. He's supposed to do a lot of things, like wear different pants to school every day, and shower every other day, and brush his teeth after every meal. Needless to say, he does none of them, because he's Mature For His Age and Mature Kids don't _need_ to do those things.

He doesn't feel very mature now, though. He feels sick.

He's sitting with his head buried in his hands, and trying not to sob. He fails at keeping it all in, and starts _wailing._ They pushed him into a wall and broke his glasses and he probably has one of those things - what are they called? Something like _concussion,_ something that adults and big kids talk about when they hit their heads. His head hurts and throbs and all that Simon can think about is how he should be _better._

Until he hears a faint, "Do you need to go to the nurse?"

Simon looks up. "Huh?"

There are thirty-two kids in his class and he's never seen this kid before in his _life._

"I said, 'do you need to go to the nurse?'"

"I'm fine," Simon lies.

The boy leans down and sits on the grass next to him. "You don't look very fine."

"I said I'm fine so I'm fine."

"Don't be a liar," he replies. "I won't tell anyone about what happened, if you don't want me to. I know what mean kids are like."

"Can you just leave me alone?"

"You were crying and if you keep being a crybaby, they'll just keep picking on you."

Simon lets a big sigh out. He feels safe enough around this kid to wipe his tears. "What should I do, then?"

"You gotta stand up to 'em. If they push you down, you gotta just... stand back up, and... push _them_ down."

Simon shakes his head. "They'll just tell on me if I do that."

"Yeah, but it'll feel really good to stand up to them, you know? If you don't wanna, tell me who and I'll do it for you."

"You could get expelled," Simon says.

"My mom works for the school," he laughs in return. "I don't think I would."

"Okay," Simon says. 

"Can I take you back to class?"

"Yeah," Simon replies. "But one thing. Who are you?"

He stands up and holds his hand out. Simon takes it hesitantly; the kid pulls him back up to his feet and pats his back twice. Simon, inside, flutters a little bit. Besides Clary - wonderful, wonderful Clary Fray, who has known him since birth so she doesn't actually count here - no one has ever been this _nice_ to him.

"Raphael."

"I'm Simon," Simon says. "I just - I don't know. Thank you."

"Meet me here tomorrow at recess," Raphael says. "I'll give them hell."

Simon stops because Raphael said _a bad word._ Hell. He considers saying something - opens his mouth a little bit, even - but nothing comes out. 

It's cool. Raphael is obviously a Bad Boy and Simon thinks it's actually a little bit _cute._

* * *

He meets Raphael by the fence the next afternoon, hands trembling slightly around the straps of his backpack.

"Hey," Raphael says. "Surprised you came."

 _Surprised you showed up,_ Simon thinks, _surprised you actually remembered me._ All that he says is, "Yeah," despite the fact that his insides are practically _screaming._ He's not sure why, but every time that he looks at Raphael, he feels this _heat_ in his cheeks, and something in his stomach that feels like it's unraveling with every single one of Simon's blinks. He stares at Raphael and blinks like Raphael is something bright and blinding.

This is a _bad_ feeling. It's bad because it's unfamiliar. He doesn't like this at all. Raphael is _confusing him._

"Now, c'mon," Raphael says. "Can you tell me who it was?"

They're directly across from them on the playground, but Simon sighs, says: "No, I don't see anyone."

"I told you not to lie," Raphael growls.

"I don't want you to get in trouble," Simon admits. "So I'm not gonna tell you, so you'll be safe."

"Simon, did you even listen to me? I'll be fine."

"I know, I know," Simon says. "I just... wanna be careful. I've never met anyone that would, you know, want to protect me like this. So I'm not telling you. I wanna make sure our friendship lasts."

"Who said we were friends?" Raphael replies, and Simon _sinks._

"Well," Simon says, quickly, "I thought-"

"Hey, Simon!" 

They both turn around at the same time.

It's Clary, and Simon has never been so relieved to see her in his life. "I've been looking for you everywhere! What're you doing _here?"_

"Absolutely nothing," Simon says, and laughs awkwardly. "Nothing was happening here. I don't even know Raphael. I mean, him. This guy. I don't know him."

"Oh, um, okay," Clary says. She turns to Raphael. "Hey! I guess you're Raphael, right? Where'd you come from?"

"None of your business," Raphael replies.

There's a long pause. "Okay, then," Clary coughs. "Hey, Raphael, you wanna play house with us?"

"I-"

"See, our version of house is different! There's a family, but there are vampires and demons, too. I'm the mother that protects all of her kids from the vampires. Simon's the vampire most of the time. You can be one too, or you can be my kid."

"Clary's got what all of the teachers call an 'overactive imagination'," Simon tells him.

"That sounds nice," Raphael says, "but I actually have to go, so. See you later, Simon."

Raphael practically _runs_ off to God-knows-where - behind the playground equipment? Where does a guy like Raphael even _go -_ and Simon scoffs. "Thanks a lot, Clary."

"For what?" she asks.

"It doesn't really matter," he sighs. "I don't like him anyway. He makes me feel all weird."

"What do you mean by weird?"

"Y'know," Simon says. "He makes me feel sick to my stomach. And like, when I look at him, I start shaking. I think I hate him. I just met him, and I think I hate him."

Clary gasps. She hits Simon playfully. "Oh, my god."

"What?"

"Simon, you don't _hate_ him," Clary says with a laugh. "You _like_ him."

"What?" Simon repeats.

"You like him."

"I-I've never liked anyone before in my life ever at all," Simon says. He runs a hand through his hair. "'Sides, he's a boy and I'm a boy. Boys can't like other boys."

"Why not?" Clary says, and frowns. 

"'Cause... I don't know. They just can't."

"Well, whatever," she says. "C'mon, let's go play."

* * *

He doesn't see Raphael for a while after that, and Simon tries to ignore the fact that he probably _misses_ him. Okay, he _misses_ him. It's not a probably. Simon really, really misses him.

It's not every day that you meet someone that's willing to beat people up for you. It's not every day that you meet someone like Raphael, someone protective and kind - _kind of,_ kind might not be the best word to describe Raphael, but he certainly is _something_ along the lines of kind. Simon thinks about all of the vocabulary words he's learned: _pleasant, personable, delightful._ Nope. He tries again: _affable, congenial, amusing._ Close. _Marvelous, charming--_

That's it. Raphael is _charming._

He's never seen someone as charming as Raphael. Other people might not find him very charming - he's not very tall, but he always looks angry and Simon doesn't think he's ever seen the guy smile in the entire... two days that he's known him. 

But. _Hey._

That's the only word to accurately describe him, Simon thinks.

He's pretty much coming to terms with the fact that he'll never see Raphael again, when Clary takes his hand in the cafeteria and whispers _look_ into his ear.

"What?" he says.

She glances across the room. "Look," she says. "Over there."

It's Raphael, sitting at the table in the very back of the cafeteria. 

"So?" Simon asks. 

" _So_ go over there and talk to him."

Apparently, Clary is still hung up on this idea that Simon likes Raphael. In a weird, non-platonic (another vocabulary word! He's really, really smart, now. Raphael would be proud of - _no_ ) way.

"I-I can't," Simon says.

"What if I go with you?" she replies.

"I don't know, Clary," Simon sighs. "I'm kinda scared."

"You don't need to be scared! C' _mon,_ Simon."

She drags Simon over to Raphael's table by the wrist, and there's actual _fear_ on Raphael's face when he sees them approaching. Raphael doesn't seem like the kind of guy, Simon thinks, that shows fear on his face, like a mask being removed.

He stands up, ready to leave, but - they're already in front of him. This isn't good. He sits back down hesitantly, and gives a hasty, "Hello."

"Um, hey, uh, hello, Raphael," Simon stutters. "What's - you know, what's up?"

"Nothing, really," Raphael sighs. "What're you doing here?"

Clary sits down next to him, so Simon sits, too. The sleeve of Raphael's jacket brushes against him when he sits, and Simon kinda-maybe... likes it? It feels weird. Really, really weird. Maybe Clary was -

"I haven't seen you for a really long time," Simon says. 

"I was... sick," Raphael replies. "In the hospital."

"Oh," Simon says. He doesn't know what to say next. In theory, he _could_ say something like, "I'm sorry," or, "What happened?" but that could be misconstrued and then Simon would look like he actually _cares._ Raphael said it himself, they aren't friends. Simon does care. A lot. Too much, probably - _charming -_ but he can't let Raphael _know_ this.

He looks down to avoid the awkward eye contact, and notices something.

"Did you finish your lunch already? Lunch just started."

"I don't have one," Raphael admits. "So, no. Why d'you care?"

"You don't have a lunch?" Clary asks from across the table. "Why not?"

Raphael looks like he's about to say something not-so-charming, but Simon interrupts with, "You can have the rest of mine if you want."

He pulls his lunch bag out of his backpack.

"It's not much. Just some goldfish and an extra slice of cheese-tomato pizza that I didn't eat because, well, I already ate one and then you were there and you distracted me and -"

Raphael is _staring_ at him, eyes widened. It's a look that says either _what the heck_ or _stop talking._

"Yeah," Simon says. "Never-mind. It's yours if you want it. I'm gonna shut up now."

Raphael takes it hesitantly.

"Thanks."

"No problem!" Simon says, and then adds, "Hey. You should sit with us tomorrow. And the day after that, and then - you know, why do I keep talking? My point is, if you wanna, we're very, very lonely people and it'd be really cool if you joined us."

"Okay," Raphael says. "I guess so."

(On the way back to class, Clary tells him that she's so, so proud of him, and Simon smiles.

Yeah, Raphael sure is something. He could get used to having Raphael around.)

* * *

They sit together for about a year, until fifth grade ends and summer starts.

This summer is a particularly hot one, and they spend most of their days at the community pool. Most of their nights are spent at Simon's house watching bad movies, or at Clary's house painting - okay, is it really painting if all they're doing is painting on each other?

They don't see Raphael until a few weeks into July.

Simon was starting to think that something bad happened again, that Raphael moved away and they'd never see each other again, that Raphael was hospitalized again. The thoughts were intrusive and frantic and Simon could have done _something._ Something like actually _calling_ Raphael's number. But that would have been too _easy,_ see. Simon didn't want to look too desperate.

Except he was _extremely_ desperate. 

That doesn't matter.

Simon and Clary are at the pool and, thanks to Clary splashing him, Simon has water in his eyes and it _stings._ He rubs at them, and when his eyes open, he thinks that he's hallucinating, because Raphael is standing in front of him. Except he's gone through a major growth-spurt, and he's - not exactly _tall,_ but _big._ Muscular. Also, his hand is on Simon's shoulder and Simon's heart is racing so fast that he feels like he's going to die, or that he's already dead and he's some sort of undead monster thing because Raphael is touching him. So. There's _that._

"Huh? Raphael?" he says uncomfortably. "Where did you even come from?"

"My house? Are you okay, Simon? 'Cause you were freaking out."

He glances over at Clary, who shrugs. "Yeah," Simon says. "I'm fine."

Raphael removes his hand and it's more than a little awkward.

"So," Clary says, swimming over in an attempt to end the tension. "Raphael, we haven't seen you in a really long time. What's up with that?"

"I was out of town," Raphael replies.

"For a month and a half?" Clary asks.

"Yeah."

Clary shakes her head. "Well, we're glad you're here now. Right, Simon?"

"Yeah, yep, totally," Simon says. "I think that chlorine really messed up my eyes. I need to leave right now immediately."

"What?" Clary asks.

"Bye, Clary. See you around, Raphael, I hope."

He gets out of the water and starts _running._

* * *

Okay, so Simon doesn't like Raphael. He doesn't. He does _not_ like Raphael.

There's a reason that Simon feels this way around Raphael. A perfectly good explanation for it all.

He just hasn't come up with it yet.

* * *

Simon doesn't know why, but he invites Raphael to his eleventh birthday party.

Simon doesn't actually have any other friends besides Raphael and Clary, so the cake his mother bought for the party is too big for the three of them. It doesn't matter; Clary eats so much cake that she looks like she's about to be sick, Simon has two slices and stops because he doesn't want to end up like Clary, and Raphael - Raphael eats nothing.

"Hey, Raphael," Simon says. "Don't you like cake? Literally everyone on earth likes cake."

"I've never had it before," Raphael admits. "I don't know."

"Well, then what're you waiting for?" Simon laughs. "Eat some."

"I don't know if -"

"Eat some cake or I'll shove it in your face," Simon tells him.

Raphael doesn't want that. He takes a slice of cake and cuts into it hesitantly - his hands shake when he brings it up to his mouth. It's _really_ good. Sweet and soft.

"Oh my god," he says with his mouth full, and Simon has never seen Raphael so happy. 

"Good, huh?"

"Yeah."

"You know, what else haven't you done? You seem really, like, sheltered." he asks Raphael. 

"I'm not _sheltered,_ " Raphael says, "I'm just... I haven't done a lot of the things that you have."

"Like what?"

"Normal stuff," Raphael tells him. "You know, like I've never been to a movie, or been on a roller coaster, and I've never shopped for anything by myself."

Simon slams his hand down on the table so hard that his plate falls on the floor. "Raphael, guess what? We're going to make you a _normal person._ "

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we're going to the mall right now. And then we're going to sneak into a movie. And then we're gonna do all of the stuff you haven't done, because I care about my friends."

Simon expects another _we're not friends,_ but all that Raphael says is, "Oh, thanks..." and Simon isn't sure if it's the cake making him sick, or if it's looking at Raphael who, for once in his life, looks like he's having _fun._ Looks like he's grateful.

No. It has to be the cake, because Simon Lewis does _not_ like Raphael.

* * *

Apparently, Raphael looks really cute in a flower crown.

Simon makes it for him out of flowers he found outside of the mall - because there are _tons_ of them, planted everywhere, practically _begging_ to be picked. Clary made one for him, once, when they were eight and it was spring. It's not the _best_ looking flower crown in the universe, but it looks really pretty on Raphael. Like, he's so beautiful that you can't even notice how horrible the flower crown looks. He's like _sunshine,_ almost.

Apparently, he also looks really cute in a suit.

They walk into a fancy store, and Simon tells him that he can try on anything, because he's not going to actually spend fifty dollars on a piece of _clothing_. He's been saving his allowances up for a guitar of his very own, and he's not just going to throw it all away.

Well.

Until Raphael comes out of the dressing room in a black and red suit jacket, also known as: the most beautiful thing that Simon has seen in all eleven years of his life.

"Well," Raphael says. "Do I look horrible?"

"No," Simon replies, and he's trying not to stare. "You look cute. I mean - not cute. Not that you're not cute. I mean - uh, the jacket looks really good on you."

Raphael laughs. "Thanks, Simon. I think we should go now, though, I need to be home by eight."

He starts unbuttoning it, but Simon stops him.

"Leave it on," he says.

"Why?"

"Because I, Simon Lewis, am going to buy it for you."

"You don't have to do that -"

Simon presses a finger to Raphael's lips. "Of course I do."

Simon can get the guitar another time.

This is more important.

* * *

Clary meets her on the first day of middle school.

She introduces her to Simon and Raphael; her name is Izzy and she has beautiful brown hair and wow, Clary says, she's really pretty. Really, _really_ pretty. Simon agrees, Izzy certainly isn't ugly, but Clary just can't seem to shut up about her.

Simon isn't jealous. He's truly happy for Clary, even if she doesn't realize that what she's feeling towards Izzy is _romantic,_ and not platonic. Definitely not platonic.

When they walk into school together holding hands a few weeks later, Simon feels something inside of him. Like loneliness. Simon is _lonely._

"Clary and Izzy are great together, don't you think?" Raphael asks him while they're waiting for the bus.

"Yeah," Simon says. "They really are perfect for each other, and Izzy seems to make her really happy..."

"But?" 

"But I've been best friends with Clary since birth, practically. And I'm glad she found someone. I just, I don't know, I wish I had someone who made me as happy as Izzy makes her."

"Do I make you happy, Simon," Raphael says quietly.

"Of course!" Simon replies. "Of course you do. It's just, I was talking about... romance."

"Right," Raphael says. "I think I'm going to walk home today. See you tomorrow."

"Don't you live like an hour away? Also, it's Friday."

"Good exercise," Raphael says. " _Bye._ "

He walks away, disappears, and all that Simon can think about is that day on the playground when they were nine, and how Raphael offered to beat up anyone who hurt him.

Simon messed up. _Majorly._

* * *

Simon likes Raphael. Simon Lewis likes Raphael Santiago. In a very non-platonic way.

The realization comes when Raphael shows up at his house to apologize for acting so weird the day before. He brings Simon a slice of vanilla cake as a peace offering, and he's wearing the jacket Simon bought for him when they were eleven - it's a little bit tight, but Simon's definitely okay with that.

"I guess I should apologize," Raphael says. "For being so awkward around you yesterday."

"It's cool," Simon says back. 

"You're sure?"

"It's completely fine, man. Don't worry about it."

"So," Raphael says, "do you want to do something?'

"Like what?"

"Like sneak out and go swimming together."

"It's like nine o'clock," Simon says. "And my mom would definitely notice if I came out of my room soaking wet."

"It was just a suggestion," Raphael sighs, "we don't have to. I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking. I have to ga- go."

"No, wait," Simon says, and grabs him by the sleeve of his jacket. "I'm in."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously!" Simon says with excitement. "Let's go."

They sneak out of the house, hand-in-hand.

* * *

Before Simon can say anything like _Oh, I forgot to bring my swimsuit,_ Raphael pushes him into the water.

"Raph, what the heck was that for?"

"It's something I've always wanted to do," Raphael replies, and then he realizes - _Raph._ No one has ever given him a nickname before. It's a little uncomfortable at first, but the way that Simon says it is warm and full of familiarity. It's nice. The only thing that Raphael has ever wanted is familiarity. 

"What, push me into water?"

Raphael takes his jacket off and jumps in with Simon. "Catch you off guard."

"What do you mean?" Simon asks, voice full of concern. "Did I do something wrong? I don't get it."

"No, Simon," Raphael says. "The opposite. When we first met, I never knew I'd become such good... friends... with the kid who I found crying by the fence. But then you refused to let me protect you because you didn't want me to get hurt, and that caught me off guard. That's when I knew that you were different. No one had ever done anything like that for me before."

"You're getting a little bit too mushy here," Simon says awkwardly. 

And - _oh._

Simon is in love with him.

He's almost thirteen, he thinks, too young to be in love. He _can't_ be in love. Raphael is one of his best friends, to start with. Also, he's a guy. Also also, Raphael could never like him that way. He knew that he liked Raphael, but...

He's not in love. He's too young for it. He isn't in love with his best friend who is very much a guy and also not interested in him in That Way.

"But it's true," Raphael says. "That's why I had to make sure everything was okay between us. Simon, I -"

Simon's heart starts to race. "You what?"

"Nothing."

"It's obviously not nothing."

"I just," Raphael says quickly, "care about you. I don't say things like that a lot."

Simon releases his breath. For a moment, he thought Raphael was going to say _I like you,_ or worse, _I love you,_ but that was just wishful thinking. Raphael doesn't like him like that and he never will.

"Hey," Simon says, in an attempt to change the topic to something lighter, "you wanna play a game?"

"What kind of game?" Raphael asks.

"Uh, I don't know. You know, I used to play this game with Clary. It was like - truth or dare, but instead, all we did was flip a coin and if it landed on tails, we'd both just give each other a bunch of dares. And if it landed on heads, we'd just ask each other a lot of questions. Ones that we had to answer truthfully. Obviously."

"Okay," Raphael says. "We don't have a coin, though."

"Oh, right, yeah."

"You wanna race to the deep end, instead?"

Simon stops. "Uh, uh... no. Not really."

"Why not?"

"No reason."

"You're scared, aren't you?" Raphael asks. 

"I'm obviously not scared," Simon says. "I'd just rather do something other than go down to the deep end. Where I can't touch the bottom at all."

"I'll carry you, then," Raphael says. 

"That's really not - you don't have to do that, and also _how_ would you even-" Simon breathes, but Raphael already has him scooped up. 

"Raphael, stop, please," Simon says. "Raphael, I don't wanna do this."

Raphael stops, but doesn't put him down. Instead: he stares at Simon, feels Simon's hand grab the back of his neck. 

Simon feels like he should ask Raphael to put him down, but he doesn't; he just stares back, into Raphael's eyes. He feels like there should be a kiss. He's watched a ton of movies that have scenes like this, and they always end with a kiss.

"Raphael," he says. "What are we doing right now?"

"I'm... not sure."

"This is like, a scene straight out of a movie," Simon says, and hates himself for it; he always does things like this in awkward situations. Always. And he never shuts up. "And we're the two main characters, and there's always some tacky over-done plot that tries to keep us away from each other, and like, that was the whole deep end thing. And -"

"Would you shut up?" Raphael interrupts. "I don't even think kissing you could shut you up."

"Kissing me?" Simon says. "What do you mean by that - I mean, oh, god, I'm not the only one who feels like we're having a moment? I -"

It's quick, the first time. Raphael leans down, unsure, and kisses him quickly. He breathes out _I'm sorry_ before Simon even has a chance to react, because that's what Raphael does. He goes overboard and then ruins things.

And then Simon kisses him _back._ It's a really awkward position for a first kiss, and his arms are a little tired, but that doesn't matter. Simon is kissing him. This is real and it's happening.

Raphael puts him back down in the water after it's over, and it's still fresh in their minds: they just kissed, and they're trembling, and they both feel their hearts pounding in their chests.

"I didn't know," Simon says. He's the first one to talk. "That you felt that way, too, I mean."

"That's because you're completely oblivious," Raphael replies. "You knew that Clary liked Izzy the moment you saw them together, but you couldn't figure out that I like you? Idiota."

"I hope that _idiota_ was said with love."

"I suppose you'll never know."

"What are we now?" Simon sighs, a moment later. "What's our relationship gonna be like?"

"The same," Raphael says. "Only with a lot more of your ridiculous ramblings, and me listening to them because I have to. Also, a lot less awkward."

"Wait, you don't listen to my ridiculous ramblings?"

Raphael laughs. "Come on, let's get you home."

He wraps a towel around Simon, when they exit the water. 

Before they leave the pool, Simon says, "Hey, do you think we'll still feel the same way when we grow up?"

"I don't know," Raphael admits. "What do you think?"

"I know we're still kids, but... I think this could be real."

"Then I do, too."

They walk back to Simon's house, hand-in-hand.

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally so self indulgent it's almost nauseating.
> 
> Anyway, I deleted this but now I'm posting it again so yeah


End file.
